Hard to Come By
by Harkpad
Summary: It's Phil's first mission back after the Chitauri Invasion, and he's taking Clint undercover to retrieve some files from a mark. It should be an easy in and out, so he even invites Tony and Steve along to learn a few things about working undercover. It turns into an exercise in trust that no one saw coming. For a prompt at avengerkink. Clint/Coulson (light).


**A/N: This is for a prompt at avengerkink at Livejournal. I also needed work through some writer's block. I'll return to my regularly scheduled WIP as soon as possible. For now, thanks to dysprositos for a quick beta read - and I did add a fair bit after that, so all mistakes are my own. (Go read dysprositos stuff if you haven't already! It's awesome!). Also, please note that I am ignoring the existence of Agents of SHIELD for this. Finally, yes, there's a tad of Clint/Coulson. You've been warned. After all that, I hope you enjoy this!**

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Getting Clint into a suit was a treat even when it was for work, so Phil soaked in every second of it as he watched Clint get dressed in their bedroom. Clint came out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, his skin slightly flushed from getting dried off, his hair sticking up at amazingly cute angles and a slight pout on his lips.

"Why do I have to seduce the rich guy, huh? We got plenty of other qualified agents who look better in a suit than I do," Clint groused as he pulled a shirt and slacks from his closet and laid them on the bed.

Then he went to his dresser and pulled out a pair of tight-fitting underwear and slipped them on, letting the towel drop to the bedroom floor. Phil's mouth got a little dry, so he licked his lips before answering. Clint didn't miss that, and it got Phil a wry smirk in return.

Phil cleared his throat and answered, "Because he likes collecting shiny things, and a night with an Avenger is pretty shiny."

"Natasha's shiny," Clint said, pulling the white shirt on and working on the buttons.

Refusing to get distracted by Clint's nimble fingers, Phil said, "Not his type. You know that, Clint. You're the one for this. The other Avengers don't have your undercover training and you're his type physically."

"What, he likes guys who look awkward in a suit?"

Phil rolled his eyes. "You know you're not awkward when you slip into a role. You've read the file, you know the intel – you're just bitching because you can." He loved watching Clint button the button closest to his throat, and he made no move to hide his attention. Clint huffed and buttoned himself up quietly, tucking his shirt in and zipping the pants when he was finished. "Can I do your tie?" Phil asked, slipping off the bed and beating Clint to the closet where his ties were kept.

"You're enjoying this an awful lot, Phil."

"Damn right I am," Phil responded, choosing a slate-colored tie that went perfectly with the coat Clint had chosen and looping it around his neck, sidling a little closer than maybe he had to as he started knotting it. "What's not to enjoy?"

Clint just smiled softly and let Phil continue his work, pulling him in for a soft kiss once the tie was secure.

Phil groaned and headed for the door. "None of that now. We have a mission."

Tony gave a long wolf-whistle when Clint and Phil walked into the common room and Clint just flipped him off and headed for the kitchen. Phil stood by the elevator, waiting for Clint.

"Looking smokin' hot tonight, buddy!" Tony called out to Clint before he turned to Phil. "You guys going to the symphony or something?" he asked as he took in Phil's usual suit.

"Mission. You could come and learn something," Phil answered. They'd been trying to get Steve and Tony a little more trained on infiltration lately. This mission had gotten hot at the last minute, though, so he hadn't asked if they wanted to monitor before.

Tony looked over at Steve, who was sitting on the couch with a book. Steve shrugged and asked, "What's Clint doing?"

"Seducing a rich guy," Clint said, this time with a wide grin and a good dose of cockiness. "Come on, you guys can stay in the van with Coulson, Nat and Sitwell. Learn a little from the expert."

Phil chuckled at the switch in attitude now that Clint was around his teammates, but he nodded. "You're welcome to come along. I have an extra copy of the mission briefing." He'd been extra careful about preparing this mission – it was the first SHIELD mission he was going to lead since he'd been cleared by medical after the Chitauri invasion. He might be a little nervous, but he got to work with Clint. It should be an in-and-out for them, and Jasper and Natasha would both be there to make sure everything went smoothly.

"Watch Legolas shoot an arrow of sexy at a party?" Tony said, downing the bottle of juice he was drinking and setting it on the coffee table. "I'm in. Come on Steve. It's better than sitting around here all night. Bruce is gone for that conference, so my science is less than fulfilling right now."

Steve grinned and nodded, standing up. "Okay, sure. If it won't be a problem."

"No," Phil answered. "We've been wanting to do some training with you two anyway. It's a good opportunity."

The ride over to the surveillance van was quiet, with Steve and Tony reading through the file they had on the computer genius they were trying to corner. Clint's job was to get hold of a set of thumb drives with files SHIELD needed if he could, but definitely to plant a tracker on the guy. It was specially designed by R&D to be able to be implanted quickly and easily, and Clint was testing the implant tech tonight as well.

"Will you only monitor Clint on a comm channel?" Steve asked.

"We've got eyes on the ballroom where the party is, and I'll steer him to one particular room if I need to get him alone. We've got cameras there, too," Clint answered.

Phil watched as Clint explained the plan he had to Steve and Tony, and he marveled at how they both got here, doing missions together again, after such a low point in their lives with Loki. Phil had watched Clint fight his way back to sanity at the same time, and about at the same pace if he was honest, as Phil worked his body back to its normal strength after getting stabbed. Clint still suffered some PTSD from Loki and Phil still had bad days where his muscles just ached despite their recovery. There were days when they'd both just stayed in their apartment, sleeping or just sitting on the couch quietly, holding each other together with their touches, quiet and a little bit desperate. Those days were fewer now, and both were cleared for active duty, but they still happened, and this first mission back was causing butterflies Phil hadn't had in years.

He took a deep breath as they got to the van and Clint was fitted with his comm. Steve and Tony found a spot in the van to watch.

"See at the after-party, boss," Clint said as he headed for the sleek BMW he'd get to drive to the party. Phil gave him a quick and quiet hug and waved him off.

It was go-time.

Phil could tell Baker saw Clint come into the ballroom. His curiosity about the Avenger clear, but he openly ignored Clint, playing it smooth. An hour later, Tony seemed impressed and Steve was grinning from ear to ear. Clint was a natural, drinking champagne and mingling with other guests before finding his way to the group of people their mark was entertaining.

Brandon Baker was charming and handsome, a tall man with black hair slicked back and bright blue eyes that glinted as he laughed, and tonight he was wearing a sleek grey suit with a green tie. He was clearly taken with Clint, and they watched as Clint slipped in close and laughed at his jokes and asked a smart question that made Baker's body tense a little. Phil watched as the two men made eye contact and Clint gave him a wink, that wink that pulled people in, which told people he liked them, would listen to them, and would laugh with them. He heard Clint's voice go velvety, although he also heard the not-Clintness of it, too.

Baker would never know.

The other guests around Baker slowly departed, leaving Clint alone with him. As they stood and talked about the media, the most recent public battle the Avengers fought, Clint took Baker's compliments in stride and Phil was proud of him, proud of the way he played this game, almost as good as Natasha.

"He's good," Steve said, as if he read Phil's mind.

Phil just nodded and watched the monitor, smiling. That's when he saw an odd look pass over Clint's face, saw his body tense for a quick moment. Natasha saw it, too.

"What just happened?" she asked Phil.

Tony leaned over Phil's shoulder. "I didn't see anything."

"Quiet, Tony," Phil said, reaching over to turn the sound feed up just a bit.

The conversation didn't change, though. Nothing out of the ordinary happened and the conversation between Baker and Clint seemed easy and friendly. Clint just had to get him alone. Phil watched as Clint leaned over conspiratorially and whispered, "Wanna go somewhere more private?" When Baker flashed a sparkling smile at Clint and nodded, Phil saw it again, fleetingly. A tension for a second before following Baker through the room.

Baker kept up a stream of chatter as the men wove their way through the crowd, and Clint mumbled something as they left the room. Phil only caught part of it, but the word 'purple' stood out and Phil tensed. As the men moved down the hallway and Tony snickered about Clint having serious moves, Phil saw the tension in Clint's back that shouldn't be there.

"Play the last fifteen seconds back," Phil commanded. Everyone looked at him sharply. He didn't have time for this, though. "Just play it," he said, glaring at Sitwell.

Jasper rewound the tape after he typed a command to keep one live feed going on the other monitor, and played the last fifteen seconds. When Phil heard Clint say, "Purple's my very favorite color," he paled.

"Coulson?" Natasha asked.

Phil leaned over and rewound the tape just to make sure. "Purple's my very favorite color," Clint said. Phil wasn't wrong. He tapped his comm. "Barton, get out of there. Abort the mission. Now," he said, watching the hallway cameras carefully.

"What are you doing, Phil?" Sitwell asked, spinning in his seat so he could make his protest clear.

"Agent, what's wrong? He's almost got what we need," Tony protested.

Phil watched as Clint stopped walking, said 'hold up' to Baker, who stopped and crossed his arms sternly. There were, thankfully, several other party patrons in the hallway, pushing past the two men, headed for a balcony or a bathroom or some other break from the celebration in the ballroom. Phil caught himself muttering, 'Come on, get out of there. Get out of there,' and Natasha put her hand on his elbow.

"What's going on, Phil?" she said icily.

"He needs out. If he needs out I'm getting him out, that's what." He met Natasha's steely gaze. "Prep to go help." She nodded and reached into a duffel bag and began strapping knives to her leg.

"How do you know? Everything looks fine!" Sitwell said, clearly annoyed about the loss of the mission.

Phil ignored him and watched Clint. "Agent Barton, do you need backup?" he asked as Clint told Baker he really shouldn't go with him, that the press would have a field day if they did anything, and Phil watched Baker's eyes darken, watched him calculate the risk of taking Clint forcibly. Clint shook his head and pulled away from Baker, his teeth clenched, and ducked down the doorway toward the exit without even giving Baker a chance to respond.

"No backup needed. He let me go," Clint said over the comm, and Phil heard the gravel in his voice that spoke of nerves that usually didn't manifest.

Sitwell grumbled as Clint left the building and headed for his car, "You just aborted a mission well on its way to success. What the hell, Phil?" he said, lowering his voice with effort.

"He used his safe word. I had to let him out," Phil said, and then tapped his comm again. "Clint, sit tight at the car. We'll come pick you up." He gestured to the van's driver and took Clint's silence on comm for the problem that it was. "Get over to him quick."

"Phil?" Steve asked. "Safe word?"

"Well, safe phrase, but you get the idea. He needed out. The mission was compromised somehow. He wouldn't use it if he didn't need it," Phil answered. The van was moving and only had a block to go to reach Clint. "It's a safety measure we put in place years ago. He's only had to use it a few times, but whenever he goes on an op like this it's in play. He doesn't do undercover often, and he's good at it, but he needs this."

"Do you have a safe phrase, Romanov?" Tony asked.

She shrugged. "My needs are different."

"Did you know about this?" Sitwell asked her.

"No, but Phil always runs Clint's undercover work." Phil could hear her quiet acceptance of the situation in her voice, and he was grateful.

"Not while you were out," Sitwell said carefully.

Phil's head snapped up. "What?" He knew Clint had gone on a couple of missions while he was still down after the Invasion, but Clint hadn't given him the details.

"Williams took Clint out on an undercover op. It was in London."

Phil remembered hearing about it, but Clint hadn't dwelled on it. Actually, thinking back, Clint hadn't wanted to talk about it at all. He said it was a success, and that no one got hurt. At the time, that was all Phil was worried about. He didn't know it was an undercover job. He looked at Natasha. "Did he tell you about that one?"

"No," she replied, "But he wasn't talking much to anyone at that moment. He was busy sitting vigil with you when he wasn't on duty."

Phil felt a pang of guilt as they headed over to Clint's location. He hadn't asked and Clint hadn't talked.

They all just sat silently while the van pulled up next to Clint's car. Phil climbed out and found Clint standing with his hands on the hood of the BMW, his head bowed. He could see a tremor in Clint's shoulders. "Hey," he said, leaning on the car. "Come back with us, okay? We need to get you inside in case Baker gets curious."

Clint nodded and mumbled, "Sorry" as he climbed in.

Phil felt worry curl into the pit of his stomach as he took in the paleness of Clint's skin, the tremble in his shoulders, the way he just curled into a ball on the floor of the van and stared blankly at the door.

"We'll debrief at the Tower," Phil stated, and wordlessly dared Jasper to protest. He didn't, just sighed and nodded. Natasha sat down next to Clint and rubbed small circles on his back and Tony and Steve just alternated between staring at Clint and staring at Phil for a minute. Phil knew everyone in the van felt something was very wrong, and he was grateful for their silence. The ride back to the Tower seemed endless, and as they were pulling into the parking garage, Clint's shaking became visible.

Phil pulled the van doors open when they parked, and let Natasha help Clint unfurl enough to climb out. None of them were expecting Clint's legs to buckle. Steve caught one elbow and Phil caught the other and they kept him from face planting on the pavement. "Clint," Phil said, trying to get Clint to meet his gaze, but Clint just stopped and took a deep breath with his eyes clenched shut.

"Fuck," he ground out through clenched teeth, and he leaned into Phil.

"Where to?" Tony asked, as they all climbed on the elevator.

"Should we take him to SHIELD medical?" Steve asked, holding the elevator doors open, hesitant.

"No, god damn it," Clint muttered. "Phil, he's a telepath," he said, his voice a little stronger.

Tony pushed the button for the common floor as Sitwell and Natasha both said "What?" at the same time.

"He was fucking around in my head, Phil," Clint said, shaking harder.

"Shh. Okay, Clint," Phil said, wrapping his arm around Clint's waist. "You're safe. Okay? You're safe."

Clint nodded and finally met Phil's eyes, and Phil nearly staggered at the fear and anger he saw there.

"Sitwell, none of our intel packets said anything about telepathy," Phil said.

"We didn't know! You think we'd leave that out? How were we supposed to know?"

Tony said, "I dunno, telepathy?" Steve elbowed him as they arrived at the common floor.

Phil helped Clint off the elevator and led him to the couch and he sat down and put his head in his hands as everyone else found a seat. A moment later, Natasha pressed a glass of orange juice into Clint's hand. Phil nodded gratefully.

"Clint, what happened?" Phil asked after Clint took a deep drink of the juice.

"I thought I was imagining things," he answered. "At first it was like a ghost of a breath in my head, but then I could feel it. I did what the SHIELD trainers taught us to do, Phil. I think it worked. He may have gotten my locker combination for the gym, but I don't think he got much else. That's why he was so keen to get me alone. Wear me down." He rubbed a hand down his face. "It probably wouldn't have taken much."

"Wait," Tony said after a beat. "You guys train against telepaths? I hardly believed they were real. I mean, I've read a few journal articles, but it's all highly suspect research."

"We've run across a few," Natasha answered. "One or two have helped us design resistance techniques."

"There are telepaths?" Steve said slowly.

"We thought we had all of them documented. They're easier to track down than you'd think," Phil answered. "Clearly we were wrong." This was going to generate a lot of work at SHIELD. He was annoyed just thinking about it.

Everyone looked a little shell shocked, and Phil knew Clint was exhausted. "Okay," he said, standing. "Jasper, take this info back to SHIELD tonight. I'll have a full report to you and Fury tomorrow morning. I'm taking Clint back to our apartment. He needs to rest."

Steve gripped Clint's shoulder for a moment, Natasha placed a kiss on his hair, and Tony elbowed him gently before helping him up off the couch. Phil took his arm and guided him to the elevator, waving good night to the others. Clint was quiet all the way back to their apartment, staring at the floor the whole time, and the two men wordlessly changed into sleep clothes once they arrived. Phil went to their kitchen and brewed a pot of tea, mixing Clint's with some honey and milk.

Clint was curled up in their bed, arms wrapped tightly around himself, so Phil set the mug on the nightstand and knelt down next to the bed, reaching up to rub Clint's shoulders gently. "Hey, can you sit up and drink some tea? It'll help."

Clint blinked heavily and nodded, uncurling and sitting up against the headboard. He rubbed a hand down his face wearily. "Fuck, Phil," he muttered, and then took a sip of his tea.

"It's over, Clint. He's not in your head now. He's just a telepath. We'll find him."

"I got the tracker in," Clint said, sitting up straighter. "Shit. I forgot to tell Sitwell."

"You got it in? How?"

Clint shrugged. "He was handsy. The whole idea is that the mark can't feel when you do it, so I slipped it in." He let out a sigh. "The mission wasn't a complete wash."

Phil grinned with pride and reached for his phone, texting Sitwell the message so they could activate the tracker. He got a smiley face back almost immediately. Phil climbed into bed and leaned against Clint's shoulder. "You gonna be okay?" he asked quietly.

Clint looked at him over his mug, his eyes still angry. He closed them and nodded. "Yeah. I didn't need that, though. After everything."

There were layers of baggage in those two words, and they both knew the baggage was still heavy. "I know. But he's gone and we won't make you go back in now that we know this about him. You're done with it." Phil pulled Clint's mug out of his hands and set in on the nightstand, and then pulled Clint into his arms, burying his face in Clint's neck. "You're safe with me."

"With you?" Clint whispered, "Always."

Something occurred to Phil as he ran his hand through Clint's hair, trying to reassure him. "Clint, when you went out with Williams," he said, and Clint went still in his arms, "Did you have a safe word?"

Clint sighed. "He wouldn't let me. Said an agent of my level didn't need it and I'd be fine." Clint paused and shrugged. "I was fine. I didn't need it."

Phil burned with anger. "He should've acknowledged it. A lot of agents have them."

"Yeah, well, apparently an Avenger shouldn't _need_ it," Clint mumbled, burying his head in Phil's embrace.

"I'm sorry," Phil said. "I should've been there."

Clint laughed mirthlessly. "You were busy. I was fine."

Phil pulled Clint into a kiss and ran his finger down Clint's cheek, holding Clint's warm gaze with his own. "You are now," he said, and Clint nodded, leaning in for another soft kiss.

And they slept. Phil had to hold Clint's trembling body through two nightmares, but they slept, and in the morning they went to headquarters and debriefed, and Phil was once again grateful for the safe phrase they'd implemented years ago, when Clint was new to SHIELD and didn't trust people to have his back easily. He trusted Phil from the start, though, and that trust was everything, even now.


End file.
